Recipe for Disaster
by Klep
Summary: Through a series of unlikely coincidences, four TARDISes and their Doctors merge and fall through realities. It comes with some 'unusual' side effects, so the four decide on holing up somewhere to try and fix the mess they're in. It's just a shame that somewhere happens to be Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1991, the very same year that Harry Potter begins as well.
1. A Mighty Crash

**uhh so haiya well this is pretty much my first crossover fic of any kind and i am pretty nervous so**

 **but please do review and stuff and tell me how i can improve**

 **and also i dont think i'll be updating very often but idk ok**

 **also, this was partly inspired by both the stories 'Changing Circumstances' by Eclipse Wing and 'De-Aged' by The Bibliomaniac both of which are amazing-**

* * *

 _On a whim, four TARDISes and their pilots crash and merge into each other, blowing a hole between realities. The hole closes, fortunately, but with four Doctors stuck on the wrong side. With three de-aged, and the one who isn't stuck with minding them, all four decide to hole up somewhere to find a way back. It really would have worked, too, if that somewhere hadn't have happened to be Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And it would have most certainly worked if they hadn't arrived in 1991, the very year Harry Potter begins at Hogwarts._

* * *

At four different points in time, four blue boxes and their pilots whizzed through the universe, trailing starlight in their wake.

In one, a man with close-cropped dark hair and steely blue eyes was stretched out on the grated floor, head under a round console in the centre of the odd room. He was surrounded by an amalgam of tools and contraptions, seemingly enacting repairs on the console. So engrossed in what he was doing, he didn't notice when a stray finger brushed against a coupling of wires, and the single one that fell from the bundle.

In another one, much similar to the first, a man in pinstripes and sneakers checked a scanner, only to find it blacked out. Frowning, he flipped, pulled and hit a multitude of switches, levers and buttons. When the screen lit up, he didn't even notice that one of those switches that he had flicked should not have been flicked.

In the third, vastly different to those, another man, this one with flopping brown hair and a bow tie checked through different hatches on the sides of the room. At last, he found the right one, and after propping it open with a pointy thing, he retrieved something and left. However, he didn't remember that he left it open, and certainly didn't notice when it swung shut, a faint clattering sound signifying that the pointy object had fallen into the cavity behind it.

And finally, in a room not the dissimilar to the previous, an older man with a stern expression finished with scrawling equations on a blackboard, placing the chalk on a nearby desk. When he turned away, it rolled, rolled, rolled down the steps and fell neatly into a small hole in the floor.

At four different points in time, four Type 40 TARDISes and four Doctors heard and felt a mighty and terrible crash.

Now, in one single moment in time, the four Doctors turned. They looked at each other.

And, as would be expected, all hell breaks loose.

"YOU!"

"YOU!"

"ME!"

"US!"

And as the interior constantly bzzt-ed back and forth between one of a grungy room, another of a cool blue tinted, and one other similar except for a second floor, these four Doctors argued amongst themselves.

"What are you doing here?! What've you done to my TARDIS?"

"Your TARDIS?! This is _mine!_ What have _you_ done to mine?!"

"Oi! I'm the one asking questions, Chin Boy!"

"Chin Boy?! Like you can talk, Dumbo!"

Back and forth went the one wearing a leather jacket and the one in the bow tie.

"Woah, woah, woah, wait! Stop! Stop! Okay, so, clearly, something's merged our TARDISes, but how? Last time this happened, well, not last, but last time, shields were down, unless-No, really?! All of us had our shields down at the same time? Same, well, not same-You know what I mean! And-what in the blazes are you wearing?!"

This time, it was the pinstriped man who cut in. It left those two stopped for just one second. Eleven, as he was, frowned.

"It's bow tie! Bow ties are cool!"

Nine, as he was, groaned.

"No, don't tell me I'm gonna regenerate into _HIM?!_ Skinny idiot who can't stop talking and has a porcupine for hair?!"

Ten, as he was, spluttered.

"Hang on, what? Like you're any better, all ears and leather! Look at me, I'm the Doctor, I have no hair!"

Just like that, the din started up again.

But not a moment longer, a sharp voice filled with disdain stopped them in their tracks.

"Yes, and when you're all done being _utter_ _fools_ of yourselves, maybe you'll appreciate the fact that the universe might _implode_."

Twelve, as he was, spoke quite dryly, and if one also accounted for his Scottish brogue, found it enough to silence the younger three. In the time that his younger selves had taken to bicker, he had stabilised the console interior to his own.

Or, at least, until another insult was thrown.

"No! You?! Those eyebrows? I would never! Not in a thousand years!"

"You've redecorated! What is this? Where are all the round things? It's rubbish!"

That was all it had taken.

"Well, you won't think that in a thousand years, then, will you?!"

As the dam broke, it brought with it a slew of insults, each bombarding each other with all manner of degrading comments, remarks and names.

The cloister bell sounded; a deep, ominous chiming that caused all of the Doctors to look to the scanner. It beeped.

That was all the warning they got before the whole room began to seemingly spin upside down and all over the place.

They panicked.

And promptly butted their heads together.

Hard.

The four Doctors all fell down, unconscious, in a matter of ways.

For one, Twelve just sort of crumpled. Eleven spun slightly, then fell. Both Nine and Ten fell backwards in a dead faint.

But, the TARDIS now lacked any pilot of any kind.

From the outside, a blue box was tumbling through space at an alarming pace. Lightly sparking and slightly smoking, it flew into a rift of a kind. It promptly started shrinking after the box disappeared into its glowing depths, until there was nothing but what seemed like a faraway star left in its place.

* * *

From there on, the TARDIS began to feel a slight sense of panic.

Thieves, or was it just thief? The thiefs, they were sleeping, and she poked them. Poking them, but none would wake.

She wheezed uneasily. What to do, what to do? They had just come through another crack, into this new-but-same place...No, it wasn't the one with the Wolf. Another? Indeed.

Her thief! She could feel it, their mind, or minds? They were bright as they ever were, but smaller! No, that wasn't quite right. The...outside? That! That was smaller! Oh, oh- it was just three, though. One, three, two.

Fret. Where to go? Well...Oh! Where he always went! There must be! Sol-3-Mutter's-Spiral-Milky-Way-Earth!

And so, one rainy day in London, England, a blue box that had never touched it streets before, landed in an out-of-the-way alley with a wheezing thump.

Overhead, an owl watched curiously before it took off and winged away.


	2. The Awakening

**9 is in the time after leaving Rose but not going back for her yet.**

 **10 is pre End of Time, post Waters of Mars.**

 **11 is post Day of the Doctor, pre Time of the Doctor.**

 **12 is post Husbands of River Song.**

 **and none of them have a companion along currently.  
**

* * *

~Twenty-Four hours later~

In that day, several rather unusual things happened.

While all Doctors were out cold for all of that time, they didn't see what had happened. For one, something really hadn't agreed with them on the way in.

Point A, none of them had seen it, but there was a slight golden glow around all of them, during the first few hours. It wasn't quite as bright as regeneration energy was, and it dispersed quite quickly.

Point B, Nine, Ten and Eleven started shrinking. Fast forward most the day away, they stopped shrinking, but now in the TARDIS there are three young boys wearing, well, practically swamped by clothes sizes too big for them.

It wasn't actually as if they looked that different, but chubby eleven year old faces do have that kind of effect.

And yet, Twelve was still same as he ever was.

The TARDIS whuffled in concerned tones. This wasn't normal, was it?

A gentle humming sounded throughout the console room. Lights flicked on one at a time, but much of it was still shrouded in dimness. With each glow of light, it stirred the occupants from their unconsciousness.

But, slowly, one by one, they all awoke, blinking doe-eyes at each other in fits of wooziness.

First to completely recover was Ten, whose eyes widened in shock. Not because of the appearance of his future selves and his past self, but rather the thought that he had thought it an unusual dream.

As it were, the slightly-girly scream he let out after was more than enough to stir the other two, who soon found themselves in a similar situation.

"What?! _WHAT?!_ **WHAT?!** "

Each became progressively louder and high pitched.

 _ **"WHAT?!"**_

Seemingly perfectly practised, they all cried out in unison. They stared, aghast. Funnily enough, they all had the same expression. The second thing they all did, natural instinct ingrained in all their conscious thoughts.

When in doubt, scan it with the sonic.

Admittedly, it was a terrible plan, and none of them accounted for the literal _scream_ of the tool that occurred from that.

" _ **QUIET!"**_

The rough Scottish voice, amazingly, cut through the overwhelming noise. Twelve rose with half-lidded eyes set in a glare.

This time, it was enough to keep them all quieted.

"Now, would all of you numpties calm down enough to find out what happened?" Ten glanced either side, and when the others looked at him expectedly, cleared his throat.

"Well, I'd say that our four TARDISes merged into one, probably because our shields were down, don't know how that happened, and we fell into another dimension, universe, parallel reality, whatever you want to call it, and…" He petered off, unwilling to say what had happened to them.

"And physically regressed into children, yes. Eleven or so, from what I can see." Twelve finished for him, arms crossed.

"But hang, why only us? Not, you?" Eleven gestured weakly at himself and the others who had de-aged, then at Twelve.

"A certain threshold, perhaps. Only those of a certain age and below are affected?" Twelve shrugged.

All this while, Nine had been growing more annoyed and confused as the conversation led off without him.

"Yeah, that's great and all, but what about us? Can we even get back? To both our proper ages and wherever we left off? Don't know about Chinny and Gobby," Ten and Eleven made protesting sounds. "But I have things to do."

"Ah," At this, Twelve sighed. "Why are you asking? I'm smarter than that, of course we can't, no. Not until the crack opens enough again. I'd say… Seven years. Give or take a few months. Plenty of time for the Old Girl here to catch her breath. Dimension-jumping isn't easy, you know. Should be alright for small hops, though."

There was silence for a moment as all of them digested the information dejectedly. Yes, in the grand scheme of things, seven years weren't a whole lot to a Time Lord. Then again, this was the Doctor, and none of those rules applied to him, in almost any incarnation.

"Well," Eleven said briskly. "No sense in standing round here for now. Library, chop-chop! Anything there is on these sort of events."

They all looked at him, disgruntled, but moved away into the depths of the TARDIS in search of the library. He was right, doing something would be better than doing nothing.

Well, after a quick stop by the wardrobe to find some better fitting clothes, that is.

A few hours later found them back in the console room with a small stack of books and none too happy expressions in the case of the younger Time Lords. Frankly, they were all pretty much useless. As far as they were concerned, there was nothing on this having happened before, and of course, it was just the Doctor's luck to have it had happen to him. Right now the four had taken to the Twelve's blackboards in an attempt to find a solution themselves.

There was a sudden rapping at the door. All looked up bemusedly, with Nine, being closest to it, shoved rather unceremoniously towards the door.

He opened it, ready to shoo off whoever had come knocking. Instead, he found a neat pile of three letters and an owl hooting at him.

 _:Sorry, it's just that there's some letters for you, and they've been there for a while, so I thought I should probably tell you so? I didn't deliver them by the way, so I don't really know where they're from…:_ The owl shuffled his feathers awkwardly.

 _:Um, you don't mind if I come in?:_

"Uh, no. Not at all…" Nine bent to pick up the letters, the owl, a Great Grey, swooped over him, coming to light on a railing.

Everyone else shot looks either at him or the owl, who again, shuffled his feathers awkwardly.

"Guys, I think we have a problem…"

The letter on the top of the pile was read out aloud, the words themselves seemingly innocent.

 _ **Mr J. Smith**_

 _ **Console Room**_

 _ **The Alley**_

 _ **TARDIS**_

 _ **London**_

Everyone cast shocked looks at the youngest Time Lord. It was obvious they were all thinking of the same thing. He swallowed, opened the letter and kept reading.

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr Smith,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

 **So there's the chapter, brought to you by creative writing English periods. While everyone else did work I finished already, trashy me wrote fanfiction :D Anyway, I hope I got them all in character enough :/ I won't be able to guarantee the next chapter in the next week since exams, but i'll definitely have a try!  
**

 **Secondly, BIG BIG thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and/or reviewed! You have no idea how much I freaked out seeing those notifications in my inbox. I honestly don't think I would have been able to write this so quickly without those little nuggets of encouragement~ So once again, thank you so much!**


	3. A Trip to Diagonally Alley part 1

**Edit: 29th June 2016**

 **Changed the Doctors' corresponding wand woods to match personality.**

* * *

 **Skip this if you want.**

 **Since I haven't done this yet, I'd like to thank ppubl, humancreeper, govonininja, dontfrogget, Starscape593, Sazzzzzle, Nimrodel626, Jamie Gibbs, Ivory718, Ionamoon, Ianvrtt4, HHH8HHH, Carpe-Libri and Calafram for following. Special thanks go to Calafram, Ionamoon, Jamie Gibbs and dontfrogget for favouriting. Final thanks are for govonininja, Calafram, and the guest (Tony Prime) who reviewed. All of you help contribute to the next chapter of the story! :3**

 **Without further ado,**

* * *

"You're telling us, Hogwarts. Actually, really, Hogwarts."

Nine aimed an exasperated expression towards the others. "Yeah. There's three. For us, probably."

"But Hogwarts! That's not real!" Ten protested.

"Actually," Twelve cut in smoothly, "It's more than perfectly possible. Ideas bleed through the Void, or can. Have you forgotten that?"

Eleven, meanwhile, vaulted down the steps, heading for Nine. He half stumbled, half ran to his former self, peering at it from the other side.

"Whoa! He's not lying! Actual Hogwarts letters!" Scanning them with the sonic, Eleven's practically non-existent brows hitched up in surprise. Nine pushed his head away in annoyance, so that he could leaf through the other letters without a mass of brown  
flop in the way.

"Okay, so, there're three letters. I'll take this John Smith one...the others are a Noble and Pond-Song?" He read out the recipients, adding a tone of question to his voice. Looking up, he caught the wistful expression of Ten and the indignant Eleven,  
the latter perhaps just a bit too close for comfort.

Ten and Twelve joined their other two selves, with Ten lagging behind Twelve slightly. Eleven was clutching his letter, scowling at it. "Why do _I_ have to be Pond-Song?" The bowtied Doctor was met with a deadpan stare by Twelve.

"You're the one who married-"

"Oh shut up, Eyebrows."

Ignoring the astounded looks on Nine and Ten's faces, Eleven stalked off towards the owl, whom was still there and watching the scene with confusion. Twelve simply shrugged and responded to the dumbfounded duo with a "Spoilers,".

Nine frowned, glancing upwards at Twelve. "Okay, so we'll go to magic school while we wait for the TARDIS t' recover, so what about you?"

"Oh, I'll get a job or something. I'm good at jobs. Or work on the TARDIS. I'm sure the Old Girl needs someone to look after her. "

"Right..." Nine and Ten shared doubtful glances. If they knew anything about themselves, future selves included, a job wouldn't last long.

It was at that moment Eleven returned, still with a somewhat mutinous expression, the owl following along. He produced a pen from the depths of his pocket, scrawling something on the letter before deftly tying it to the owl's claw. He looked at the others  
expectantly.

"Bebe's agreed to help us deliver these letters, so you'd better hurry up."

Jolted into action, Nine and Ten both pulled out pens of their own and hastily scrawled their own replies. Attaching them to the owl's claw, 'Bebe' bobbed his head.

 _.:Well, it was nice meeting you all. Maybe I'll visit you guys at Hogwarts or something. If you don't mind opening the door?:._

Nine moved to open the door for Bebe, but there was a snap, and the door opened on its own. Bebe swooped out, another snap, and the door closed. When he turned, Eleven stood there smugly, hand held in semblance of fingers having been snapped. Nine cast  
a dirty look at him. "Oh that is so not fair." Eleven just winked at him. "Watch and learn, kiddo. "

Ten flipped through all the pages of his letter and set them down on the console. He folded back up his glasses, which were now almost comically too big for him, back into his pocket. "We've got some time to kill before term starts. We should probably  
start with getting some supplies." Ten frowned. "Tomorrow, relatively."

At that, they all split from each other, mostly to ponder what would happen now that three of them would be attending a fictional (of a kind) school for the next seven years.

Nine and Eleven left for the inner rooms of the TARDIS, hoping to find something to occupy their time. However much they wanted to help do maintenance on her, their discordant opinions would only make the situation worse. Ten made a beeline for the library,  
once again, only this time in search of the Harry Potter books. Thoughts filled his mind of an adventure of witches and Shakespeare with Martha. He gave a slight hint of a smile of fondness. Twelve simply sighed in exasperation, and descended downwards  
to check on components of his beloved TARDIS. Already, gears and cogs span in that mind of his in trying to find a way to keep an eye on his miniaturised past-selves.

Ultimately, after that revelation, none of them particularly felt like doing any more calculations.

However, the next 'morning' found them all meeting in the console room with barely contained excitement. After all, not even Time Lords have shopped at the real Diagon Alley before.

* * *

 _~Tomorrow, relatively~_

Finding the Alley wasn't hard at all. With Ten, a book in hand and paraphrasing every other minute, they all located the Leaky Cauldron with just enough sanity to spare, and a confiscation of Ten's book into the dark depths of Twelve's pockets.

The four garnered many odd looks from the patrons, and they could just tell that they were thinking 'Stupid Muggles,' or something of the sort. Needless to say, they all quickly backed into the side alley with the brick wall, hurrying through after a  
witch.

The wall closed up behind them, leaving the Doctor, technically plural, standing in Diagon Alley for the first time. The real one, not some half-hearted amusement park replica.

The Alley was a hubbub of activity. The hooting of owls layered with the bustle of conversation, creating a somewhat familiar marketplace like atmosphere. You could almost hear the sparkle in the Time Lords' eyes, because this was NEW! A new experience,  
much like moving house and exploring the backyard, or making friends with the neighbours when you barely knew them, and they barely knew you!

Twelve blinked. Something had occurred to him.

"Oh. Well that's..."

"What?" Three pairs of eyes turned on the Scottish Doctor.

"We don't actually have any money, you know."

"Oh. Well that's..."

"Yes."

Eleven detached himself from the group and advanced unabashedly. "I'm sure it'll be fine! Psychic paper, remember!"

Everyone looked at him doubtfully. "Gringotts are managed by goblins though. You think that's gonna work?" Ten said with an air of exasperation.

"Uhm," Eleven shrank slightly. "Yes?"

"You bloody idiot. Let's do it."

* * *

The four drew some more strange looks as the walked through the bank, passing witches and wizards glaring scathing holes in their metaphorical/physical clothes.

For the scientific nature of the Doctor, even just being in the presence of Goblins, let alone Gringotts! Real Gringotts! Made their skin crawl with anticipation.

The line slowly trickled to them, during which Twelve was pushed forward as a grudging representative.

The teller looked at them expectantly. With slight nervousness, Twelve passed the billfold of psychic paper over.

The goblin looked over the top of his spectacles, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry about the wait," He gave a shrewd smile to the somewhat confused expressions of the Doctor, returning the paper. "FARNUK!" He hollered.

Instantly, another goblin hurried out from behind another set of doors, looking questioningly at his elder, who in turn, responded with an pointed look. "Farnuk, take our guests here to the Vault."

Farnuk backed up in shock.

"The-?"

"Yes."

"O-oh. Very well. If you'll follow me."

Paying no mind to at accumulation of strange looks from the general public, the Doctors shared a look, mostly an annoyed one at Twelve, which was the general consent that he had messed up. Twelve simply glared back at Ten, and followed Farnuk, prompting  
the others to pursue him. The younger three had to move quickly to keep up with Twelve's long strides, a bizarre experience for them, who usually were in front.

There was a certain hissed exchange during the time taken the reach the minecart which would take them into the vaults. It rather began with Ten, who complained.

"Oh, now look at what you've done! I told you it wouldn't work!"

To which Eleven responded in kind.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? You're the one with the book!"

"That he," a pointing to Twelve, who gave no indication he had heard. "Took! After you told him to!"

"And you don't remember any details? Rubbish Time Lord you are!"

It was broken up by a grumpy Nine, who clocked both his future selves over the head with a rolled up Daily Prophet, picked up off the street and that he was reading during the wait.

"Do the two of you ever shut up? How I'll ever become you, I'll never know."

They soon quieted after that, settling on non-verbal spars with facial expressions, which lasted the short while longer to the minecart station.

Twelve, Nine and Farnuk took the first, leaving the second for Ten and Eleven, who quickly abandoned all disagreement in favour of interest.

Unsurprisingly, none of them were affected by the unpredictable nature of the minecart they had to ride in to access the vaults.

If anything, they enjoyed it. Or, at least, Nine and Eleven did. Twelve and Ten were much more interested in the sights they saw on the way down.

Dragons, magma pools, sphinxes, what seemed like an underground lake complete with a half-submerged ghost ship, they even passed through a waterfall of some kind, leaving them wet and blinking away water droplets. At the speed they were going, however,  
it took almost zero time at all for them to dry off.

In the end, it had taken them a total of eighteen minutes, thirty four seconds to arrive at the bottom of the bank, and even the goblin looked vaguely ill.

It did not stop him from doing his job. The vault had a faded inscription carved into the stone wall beside it, 'Vault 0', Farnuk placed his hand on the door, which glowed slightly, then fell away to reveal another door, this one protected only by a simple  
lock. He stepped back, glancing at the Doctors.

"It has always been said that there is the most final protection in place on the first un-vault, stronger than all our master metalsmiths strengths put together. Only the true owners of the key shall be able to enter the Healer's Vault. In time that Gringotts  
bank has stood, we have kept its existence a secret, until now. Everything should be in order, my fine fellows. "

They were slightly alarmed at the mention of 'Healer', it being just one definition of their chosen name, but nonetheless approached the door, each distinctly making sounds of surprise at the lock.

It was the same kind that the TARDIS had.

Ten fumbled slightly, but he was the first to find a key. With the others falling back to give him space, he inserted the key into the lock. With a click, it unlocked, and he pushed open the door.

"Oh, I am a genius! I knew it would work!"

"You mean me."

"Well, technically, we're the same person, so yeah, me. Good catch, Chinny!"

"Oh, for the last time-! What's wrong with my chin?!"

Inside, it was actually quite cavernous. The floor was haphazardly covered in Wizarding coins, with smaller stacks and mounds dotting the room. Every so often, there was the glint of other jewels and intricate jewellery hiding amongst the piles of coins,  
even a book or two. It was lit by two brightly burning torches either side, which cast a warm glow around the room.

Against the back wall sat four cabinets, each differing from the others, but each had relatively the same contents: a mish-mash, mumble-jumble of parts, a few books each and one small wooden box that matched the cabinets in materials.

Each Doctor approached one curiously. For Nine, he had taken to one of a cypress , a cabinet of hawthorn. Eleven chose the cedar, which left Twelve with afir, not that he minded. As they rooted through the shelves, Farnuk watched  
them apprehensively, letting his eyes wander around the room with interest. It was clear that he had never been in this room either.

"Eh? What's this?" Eleven had put aside all the things on the shelves, and now held the box in his hands, carefully studying the Gallifreyan carvings on the box. "B-but, this is my handwriting! How'd it get here?"

"Give," Ten snatched the box, flicking it open. His eyes widened. "What?!"

Inside the felt lined box sat an exact replica of Eleven's sonic screwdriver, except that instead of a metallic casing, it was wooden. It still had some metallic embellishments, the rest was a finely varnished teak. Eleven picked it up gingerly, giving  
it a slight wave. To everyone's surprise, a shower of green sparks shot out of the end. "Hold on," he pulled out his normal one, waving this one as well. It didn't give off anything.

"Um..." The others unearthed their own boxes, taking out replicas of their own sonics. "Hm," murmured Twelve. "Looks like we've got ourselves some wands. Makes sense, if you think about it. The wood must act as a conduit for the magic and then there must  
be a frequency that's permanently activated to allow for the channelling. When have you ever seen a metal wand? The answer? Never. It just can't focus it."

They all gave experimental waves of their sonic wands. Ten frowned. "Well, that makes sense, I suppose...But how...OH! Oh! Future us must have left this for past them, in the past, which is past us for them and us right now and the future for us!" At  
this, Farnuk looked rather bewildered, but the Doctors understood it just fine.

"Farnuk, how-, how long did you say this was untouched?"

"Since the bank was built, so that would be 1474. The first vault built, so to speak, as a gift to the four who aided the Goblins in establishing the bank. You were never told this? I would have thought, being..." Farnuk shook his head. "Never mind. It  
is of no concern. "

So this new development, or rather, slightly ancient, allowed for the Doctor to fill their pockets with enough money to buy school supplies, and then, a lot of somes. The ride back, after making sure the door was firmly relocked, was almost as eventful  
as the first. There was a lot of waving around the sonic, and to their utter delight, albeit, lesser surprise, it still was as functional as their metallic sonic screwdrivers. While none of them were particularly skilled in using them as wands yet,  
they all had at least managed some modicum of skill.

The quad exited the bank, with Nine producing the letter.

"Right, we've got sonic wands, imagine that! So cross those off the list...Telescopes and protective gloves, we can find in the TARDIS, better than anything they'll sell here. Not like we'll need them... Trunks, bigger on the inside, somewhere in the  
TARDIS as well. There's got to be some...somewhere. Everything else, we'll have to buy."

"Split up, and get enough for all o' us plus whatever you want. Don't spend it all though. Sandshoes, books. Ears, the Apothecary. Chin, with me. I don't trust you to not go wanderin' down Knockturn by accident. We're going to the robes shop, so you two  
meet us there when you're done shopping."

Twelve took charge with the air of a professional parent. With some grumbling at Twelve's assigned nicknames, they did split up, as even though they wouldn't admit it, if was a good plan.

* * *

 **Chapter 2! Split in two parts! Yes, I did abuse time travel rights to write an easy explanation without having to make up whatever for them to have money.**

 **Anyway, I'm thinking of possibly changing the name? The only good one I really thought of was 'The General Misadventures of Four Time Lords at a Magic School', which is a bit long. If you have any other ideas, tell me!**


	4. A Trip to Diagonally Alley part 2

**Thank you to patriciahodnett, Qwen Cooper, Chri330v, and govoninja for your support! :D**

 **For clarification, any scene with a singular Doctor, I will occasionally use 'the Doctor'. For multi-Doctor scenes, their number-name.**

* * *

Nine's destination was the Apothecary, where he was supposed to buy all the potions supplies for himself, plural. He scowled, a bit ruefully. What was he supposed to carry them in? Who knows what might happen if he mixed them in with all the bananas and things in his pocket?

He turned the corner, seeing the shop just ahead. Quickening, he hurried ahead into the shop, and was instantly hit by the awful smell of rotten eggs and other dead things. He wrinkled his nose, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Was it a good idea to keep them here, out in the open, where it smelt this bad?

Nine walked up to the counter, manned by the shopkeeper, who stared him oddly. Used to receiving all manner of looks, including ones that probably implied 'get off this planet', 'what are you doing here' and 'who are you', he simply shoved his arm deeper into his pocket in search of the letter with the supplies list. Finally coming up, he allowed himself a triumphant grin, which didn't seem to change at all from being de-aged.

"Firs' year potions set, please, and make that triple."

After all, there was always something to be gained from being polite.

"Aren't you a bit young to be here on your own? Where're your parents?"

Although, apparently, the shopkeeper thought otherwise. The Doctor fixed him with a nasty glare, who looked away sheepishly and started to gather up the ingredients that would be needed. In the meantime, he wandered about the shop, now somewhat saddened. Did he even have any family he could call so? Certainly not parents, no. Not after the Time War… He supposed the closest thing to family would be his future selves, and past companions. It was a shame, really. He liked Rose, he really did! But, he supposed that she had her own life to get back to. Not certainly going to give it up to go gallivanting about time and space with him…

He was interrupted in his thoughts by the shopkeeper's slightly impatient attempts to catch his attention. Nine blinked as he studied the collection of items he had gathered. In fact, he didn't recall collecting them at all, but he must have when he was lost in his thoughts.

The Doctor shook his head, proceeding over to the counter. There was no point in dwelling in the past now. The future is now, tomorrow, and yesterday when you're a time traveller. He had to strain a little to put everything he had picked up on the counter, and silent, and silently cursed his smaller stature. Either way, there was no use in returning everything back to their proper places, so why not buy them?

The shopkeeper read out the price for all the items, including the items he had just added, clearly disconcerted and more than likely a bit suspicious, but unwilling to risk another look from the strange bother look from the strange boy who had flitted into the shop all on his lonesome. Nine took a moment to scrounge into his pockets, coming up with a handful or two of coins. Paying the man, the Doctor accepted the change with still a bit of a glare aimed at the keeper.

He exited the shop, arms full of boxes and bags of potions ingredients plus the equipment necessary to actually make the potions. Already, his arms were starting to ache slightly, with the weight of several pounds of assorted ingredients, plus sets of scales, vials, and three cauldrons. Not for the first time that day, he cursed his diminished strength and height, seeing as he could barely see over the top of the stack, and hurried off as fast as he could to Madam Malkin's.

Upon later reflection, he would think that the shopkeeper deliberately did _not_ cast a Feather-light Charm on all of it as revenge for the scorching look he had given him.

* * *

When Ten stepped into Flourish and Blott's for the first time, it was unlike stepping into any other library he'd ever known, and that was including the Library, capital L, and/or the TARDIS library. The Gallifreyan Archives? Well, maybe. But only the first time.

Inwardly, he shivered slightly. If this was any indication of what was to come, he didn't think he'd survive making it to the Hogwarts Library, clearly remembered of that it was 'the largest library in Great Britain,' or something along those lines.

He jolted, realising he was blocking the way, and hastily moved out to let a few grumbling others fully into the shop. All in all, he thought he could probably stay in here forever, well, not forever, more like until he read all the books, which was admittedly a long time, but probably not forever, and would likely regenerate of old age before then…

Regenerate. He will knock four times… The Doctor started. There was a sudden double knock, but only two. A quick glance revealed that an assistant had dropped some books off her stack, which landed on the floor. He wiped his mind of those thoughts, jumping to help her. Ten picked up the books off the floor, noting the titles. ' _The Science of Magic; A Study in Arcana_ ,' and the other, ' _Breaching the Void; The Worlds Between Our Own,'_

"Oh! Thanks!" The assistant seemed surprised that he had helped her, smiling slightly. The Doctor turned the books over in his hands, looking up at her questioningly.

"Oh, no. It was my pleasure. Where do you need them?" Interesting… Very interesting that he should come across these books in his special circumstances…

At this, she sighed, shifting the books in her arms. "Oh, these? They were on the shelf for a really long time, but no one's interested in them, so the manager's decided to put them in the storeroom. Quite a shame, really. They're very interesting, but it's just that no one in this world has a taste for them, I suppose."

Finding themselves at the storeroom door, he watched the assistant place the stack onto an empty shelf. When she turned to him for the books, he offered her a small laugh, waving her away.

"Oh, um, actually, I think I'll take these with me. Y'know, might be an interesting read."

"Alright then, always nice to see an interest in the metaphysical. Tell ya what, discount, just for you. I'll warn you though, I doubt you'll be able to understand them for a good while yet."

Ten grinned at her. "Thanks, but you might just be surprised."

"If you say so, kiddo. Now, how can I help? You must have been here for a reason." She beamed right back at him, as he extracted the booklist from his pocket.

"Okay, so, I need the whole of the Hogwarts booklist for first years, times three, although it really should be only one, but you never know, so three it is. Please." He rambled over his words, brain to mouth filter practically non-existent.

"First year at Hogwarts, eh? Good times, good times. Know what house you're hoping for? I was a 'puff, and despite what everyone thinks, not as useless as they think we are." The assistant _accio_ -ed over a hamper, moving off to collect his books, while he trotted behind, hugging the two he had already close to his chest.

"Uh, not really. If I had to guess, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw. Maybe Slytherin, although I hope not." That was especially true of him. His past self, well, he was more a brave, hero type. Straight to Gryffindor. The bowtie, he wasn't so sure about.

She laughed. "From what I can see, you'd fit right into Ravenclaw. Smart cookies, they are."

Eventually, the both of them made it to the counter, where the Doctor produced the money for all the books and stationery, which included a bundle of quills, ink and some really nice parchment, which he was sure he could've found somewhere in the TARDIS, except this was different, and added his own two books to the suspiciously large pile of everything. He frowned. Did he miscalculate? It was more expensive than he thought… he probably did.

The assistant waved her wand, and it all separated neatly into three stacks, one of which, he noticed, was somewhat larger than the others. It was all tied together with a tap of her wand.

Ten passed over the right money, after a moment fumbling to count it all. With a wink, the assistant slid the bundle over to him. Hefting it, he found it lighter than expected. _Feather-light Charm_ , his mind supplied for him. He exited the shop, stumbling past a blonde-haired man, who sneered at him.

Making a beeline for the robes shop, he noticed a small scrap of parchment sticking out of one of the books. He read it upside down. It was a note from the assistant.

 _'_ _Hey, Smart Cookie, I put some extra books in for you, so I hope you don't mind that you paid a bit extra. Don't worry, half of it's on me! If you're really as clever as you say you are, enjoy~ See you next year.'_

* * *

Eleven and Twelve hurried along the Alley down to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Twelve led the way, and with his imposing figure, easily cut a line through the crowds, giving Eleven a wide berth to work with. He ran along behind, half wondering how this had happened. It was usually him who did the running ahead.

But who was this Scottish, old 'Doctor' anyway? He claimed to be him, and for the most part, similar enough to him, but if the Time Lords really were alive, then he could pretend to be any of them.

There was also the matter of fact that he was on his last leg. There was no magic loophole, no miscount on his end. He was, indubitably, the last regeneration. So, how on Earth (seeming appropriate, that was where they were after all) was he even possible? The Impossible Doctor.

He cut off that train of thought as the two of them entered the shop. His eyes wandered over the racks of clothing, bolts of cloth and some very cool pointed hats.

 _Witch hats are cool, except I'm not a witch, I'm a wizard, blimey, a wizard, sorry, no, warlock? Warlock? I_ am _Merlin… no, wait a moment, I'm not. Not here at least. Wait, was I ever?_

So while Twelve rooted through the other clothing racks for whatever reason, maybe for appearances in public, although he could help but wonder exactly why he cared, Eleven was booted over to the back of the shop and stood on a footstool next to two other boys, from what he presumed, also being fitted for Hogwarts robes.

He squirmed slightly as the witch began taking his measurements, causing her to tut a little. This was admittedly boring, he thought, and would much rather be somewhere else, running away from things or blowing up something. The Time Lord began tuning into the other two boys' conversation, without actually giving much indication that he was. At first, it did seem atypical of any two boys raised with an ounce of magic in their lives, but the more he listened, the more strange he thought it was.

He glanced sideways, feeling a sense of déjà vu from all this. The one closest to him, blonde and in his opinion, looked a lot like the natives of Gyl 10, minus the magic. The other was strikingly familiar, although he couldn't place where from. He appeared to have finished, and hopped down from the stool. The faux-Gyl-10 sniffed haughtily and glared at the Doctor.

"What are _you_ looking at?"

He bristled and turned away. "'S nothing. No need to shout."

Thankfully, he was soon finished with his business, and left Eleven standing there alone and desperately wondering why he felt like this had happened before. He fiddled with his bowtie, which earned him another tut from the witch working on his robes. If he was being honest, the Doctor felt rather silly, standing here, getting measurements taken for robes. Robes were decidedly not very cool.

A minute or two later, he found his past selves joining him, the both of them looking none too pleased either.

"Bad day?" He asked pleasantly.

"Yes," and "No," were both said at the same time by Nine and Ten respectively. The two locked eyes, glaring. Eleven snorted softly in laughter. He had forgotten how his past selves could be like that. He didn't stay for long though, as a moment later, he stepped down from the stool, done with fitting. He aimed a smirk at Ten and Nine, flouncing out and almost bumping into Twelve, who frowned at him.

Sheepishly, he dodged around his taller counterpart and found a chair, where he sat for a few minutes, simply experimenting with his sonic wand. There was also the matter of Mr Eyebrows. He'd just have to ask when he there was a chance.

Not long after, Nine and Ten emerged, still glaring daggers at each other. With a sigh, Eleven and Twelve joined them, the latter hustling the group to the counter, coming up with a small stack of Galleons to pay for all the robes. He hefted the bundle of everything, striding out the door, his coat swishing behind him. The three followed at a more regular pace, having split the weight of all the supplies between them.

* * *

The Doctors found they had a little bit of time on their hands after shopping, and so, bunkered down at a table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. While as sure as they were they could enjoy just about any adventurous flavour there was, pears excepted, none of them really bothered to get them.

Except for Eleven, who upon seeing the custard flavoured ice cream, managed to manhandle the manager into baking, then adding mysteriously produced fish fingers to his scoops.

As he had probably the most complicated order of the four, he returned to the table much to the astounded looks of Nine and Ten, and the head shake of Twelve. To be fair, it hadn't actually been that long for him since he had fish custard, if you didn't count the four billion upward years of confession dial, but he still wondered what had possessed him so to enjoy that.

Nine and Ten each had a banana split, with generous amounts of jelly babies sprinkled on. Twelve went more simplistic, just a scoop of lemon icecream, topped with just a few chopped nuts.

Eleven paused halfway through his monstrosity of a dessert. He smiled just a bit mischievously at the assembly of himself.

"Ah, well, more for you, Ears, than for us, we should reintroduce ourselves to ourselves. Sandshoes, you go first. Number and age, if you would."

Nine's mouth turned downwards. "Don't call me that." Ten slowly pulled out the spoon from his mouth, looking awkwardly between them.

"Sandshoes? They're not sandshoes- Ugh. Well, I'm number ten. I'm nine hundred something years old, kinda hard to keep track after a while. "With that, Ten hastily scooped another spoonful of icecream into his mouth, as to not have to say anymore, an unusual occurrence for him.

Eleven shrugged, then stuffed another fish finger into his mouth. He answered in between chews. "I'm the elevenffh! I'm twelffh 'undred som'fing years old, blimey! I'm old! Old Doctor! _Aaa_ nd now to you, Eyebrows."

Twelve looked affronted by Eleven's flippant nickname. But, seeing as how this was probably the only way without them all getting horribly confused, he played along.

"I am the twelfth incarnation of ourself, and I am over two thousand years old." He decided not to speak about the confession dial. There was no use dropping any more bombs on this already ridiculous situation. Besides, could he even count those years toward his age?

Not for the first time that day, everyone blinked in shock at one of their own.

"Sorry, _what_?!"

"T-two _thousand_?!"

"I'm surprised I even made it that long..."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong!" Eleven suddenly brandished his screwdriver at Twelve, who reacted with a flash of surprise, then amusement. Eleven continued. "Who are you, really? You can't be the Doctor, I'm the last Doctor, last regeneration, at least, number thirteen, that's me, thanks to Gob over there, so you can't possibly be the Doctor, just a trick!"

Behind his back, Nine whispered with Ten, just a tad angrily.

"What do you mean, you wasted one?!"

" _Aah_ , not wasted, just channelled it into my handy spare hand, which, well, it became a meta-crisis, and then it saved the universe, so see, not wasted!"

"Who does that?!"

"You do!"

Dry laughter interrupted their squabble. It was coming from Twelve, who had an amused glint in his eyes.

"What are you going to do? Assemble a cabinet at me? You can't even cast any spells with it. "

"Oh yeah? Try me."

Twelve laughed a little more, shaking his head. "Oh, I remember when I was you. Madman with a box, running around all of time and space. But no, I really am the Doctor. I'll prove it. Fresh out of the Time War, leather and ears in a shop basement swarming with Autons. Found a shopgirl, grabbed her hand and whispered run. Five minutes later, blew up the shop. Best decision I ever made."

They all reminisced fondly for a moment, then Eleven pocketed the screwdriver. "I believe you," he murmured apologetically. "But how, though?"

Twelve laughed for one final time. "Spoilers, Chinny. Spoilers."

Said 'Chinny' scowled venomously at his successor. "I hate that word."

"I know."

* * *

 **Part two of the trip, slightly longer than the first because the bookshop scene was just too fun to write XD Did any of you catch the Sherlock reference? I had just finished watching the first episode and didn't really realise what I wrote until I wrote it. There's a lot of OOCness, I feel, with the Doctors. Maybe? I don't know. Just don't expect the next chapter to come as soon, this was a special case ;D**


	5. Cabin Fever: The Packing Predicament

**I lied. Have a filler chapter. My goal for this is to make you at least smile or maybe laugh ;)  
**

 **Thank you Qwen Cooper, sepchipmunk, BlackRose-FlowerofDeath, AmeliaKateYEA, TwivicarLark, merlinjackson, TheBadWolves, Kminari and MarniLoves for your support! :D**

 **As for 12, Qwen, well, I have plans for him, quite similar, which you will eventually see...**

* * *

 _'We see magic around us as an arcane force, unknown in its properties but yet able to do mystic things-'_

"GET BACK HERE, YOU _SHRIMP_!"

 _Snap_

"I'M NOT A SHRIMP!"

 _'This is not actually quite the case. Magic itself exists on a plane unseen and uncontrollable by normal humans, such as Muggles, and to an extent, Squibs-'_

 _Snap_

"YOU ARE TOTALLY A SHRIMP!"

"YEAH? THEN YOU'RE A _PRAWN_!"

 _'But wizards, and Squibs, to a lesser extent, can both see and manipulate this plane-'_

 _Snap_

" _PRAWN?!_ YOU'RE CALLING YOURSELF A _PRAWN?!"_

" _YOU_ WERE THE ONE THAT CALLED YOURSELF A SHRIMP!"

 _Snap_

"WHY YOU-"

"FOR RASSILON'S SAKE, SHUT UP! THE BOTH OF YOU! YOU'RE BOTH SHRIMPS!"

 _Quiet_

"'With additional assistance from a wand, acting as a conduit. Magic is a natural force, as is wood-'"

"See, you _are_ a shrimp!"

"Sh-!"

"Not. Another. Word."

"Humph."

* * *

There were at least two months until school term started for Nine, Ten and Eleven.

With the TARDIS temporarily temporally and practically spatially grounded, Twelve just barely managed to park it on the outskirts of some forest, not too far away from London, but enough as to not draw attention.

Needless to say, this caused quite the case of cabin fever for the poor Time Lord/s.

Over the course of those few months, several things happened, the most recent of which, Nine stealing Eleven's fishbowl (with a goldfish. No one knew where it came from.) and running around the TARDIS console, in a game of cat and mouse. This started a chain effect in which Ten retreated once more into his book, shutting off the outside world, and Twelve snapping his chalk in fits of annoyance before it became too much and he snapped as well.

If this wasn't enough there was The Packing Problem, capital T deserved.

* * *

Following their trip to Diagon Alley, the Doctors returned to the TARDIS, still where they left it. Ten mumbled something about books, and after dumping the others' share into their hands, retreated into the TARDIS.

The annoyed Nine and Eleven, already carrying some other things, ungraciously dumped them on the floor, the TARDIS seeming to grumble slightly.

Twelve merely settled for a piercing look at the two, unearthing Ten's copy of the first book from his pockets, the latter never actually having gotten it back. He quickly flicked to a page and scanned it.

"Trunks, gloves and telescopes, you two. Get some for the porcupine as well."

And so, with the slow dawning looks of realisation, the duo made a break for a storage room, each silently racing the other. Twelve stood, dumbfounded at his younger selves. He shook his head and turned away.

In a storage room of the TARDIS, None and Ten surveyed the sea of, well, junk, and other bits.

"How are gonna find anything here?"

"I have no idea. See, it's the plan that we don't have a plan so we plan to make a plan."

With that, Eleven hoisted himself over a pile of scrap metal and one grandfather clock, Nine rolling his eyes and going around it.

"Aha! I remember!"

Eleven had come across a trunk, still in quite good condition, engraved with Gallifreyan markings. He threw it open, coughing slightly as it uncovered a layer of dust. Then, a swarm of bats flew out, some hitting Nine on their way out. Eleven was unfazed.

"See? Here's trunk. And," with great effort, he hauled out two other trunks, more beaten than the one it was stored in. "Two more!"

Nine checked over the other two, turning one on its side. A veritable sea of scrolls tumbled out, joining all the other things on the floor. A teapot followed suit, still whiffing out faint clouds of steam.

"Well," he remarked dryly. "I guess that's where all the lost scrolls of Atlantis went."

Eleven popped his head out of the first trunk, reminiscent of his emergence from the TARDIS post regeneration. "What did you say? Oh, yeah, I found a copy of this!"

He tossed a manuscript over the edge. It landed with a thump near Nine.

 _"The Winchester Gospels."_

"Interesting." Nine shoved it away with his foot. He opened the other trunk. It was pitch black, and smelled of liquorice. That was when he realised it was liquorice. He abruptly shoved it to the side, where the largest stick of liquorice he had ever seen fell out.

Eleven popped his head out again, this time wearing a traditional nightcap. He wrinkled his nose. "Do I smell liquorice?"

Nine just pointed to it.

"Ah. I see. So that's where it went!"

He ducked under again, and Nine sighed. He should probably get around to cleaning out the trunks as well. Starting with this one. He looked down into it, suppressing the urge give up and walk away.

Within that trunk was countless more. He noticed a note stuck onto the back of the lid.

 _'Raggedy man, don't think me and Rory didn't notice you looking at our telescopes like you wanted to take them apart. You know the last time you looked like that, we had raisin toast for three weeks straight, just because you 'upgraded' the toaster. Don't get me wrong, we love raisin toast, but only the kind that doesn't scream whenever you take a bite. So, I had River hide them, because she's a good girl and knows exactly where you won't look. You know, I almost feel sorry for you. She was muttering something about liquorice. If it's River, then it's never good. Good luck finding them,_

 _Amy.'_

"Uh, do you know an Amy? Says here a River hid some telescopes in here. I might need some help with this..."

Eleven was by Nine's side in a heartsbeat. He snatched the note off the lid, scanning it with a forlorn expression. He peered down into the trunk, whistling. "We went stargazing at the plains of T'kkla Grikl. I always wondered where the telescopes they used were. Not that I needed them or anything."

(We shall not speak of the monstrosities found in this uncovering.)

Nine was slumped in anti-grav egg chair, which he had the feeling the TARDIS was taking pity on him, and so, provided the chair. He watched Eleven dig through a pile of stuff, who often making remarks and such when he found something of interest.

"That's a fossil. That's a tin of vintage Earth style canned tomatoes circa 5723. That's... a cookie? Here we are!" Eleven triumphantly raised a small glove, felt like in appearance.

"That's the last one! Oh, good old Saringlinkan moss! Never had the chance to use this, now I do!" He tossed it onto a pile of other gloves, all of them different, and ranging from what looked like scales, leather and some other indescribable textures. In all that time, he hadn't found a matching set at all.

"Oi! Ears! Gimme a hand with all this!" 'Ears' glowered at his future self.

"Stop calling me that!" Nevertheless, he alighted from the egg, uprighting a conveniently placed bellhop with some effort. He gave it a push, and it rocketed over to Eleven, who dived out of the way. It collided with the liquorice stick, rebounding for a moment before screeching to a halt.

"Oh. Oops. Forgot I had this." Eleven removed a box from his head, rubbing it sheepishly. Nine groaned. His future was not looking particularly bright. As Eleven loaded all the trunks onto the bellhop, Nine made his way over to the glove pile, grabbing them all. With hurrying from Eleven, Nine took a seat on a trunk.

"Ready?"

"What do you meeeaAAaa-!"

Eleven kickstarted the bellhop. It gave the most tremendous screech and sputtered away at an uncontrollable speed, the two Time Lords hanging on for dear life.

"- _aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAN_!"

It thundered out, crashing through piles of stuff, hitting a bump on the way out, sending it flying through the air.

Eleven whooped in half crazed, half terrified joy. "GERONIM _OOOOOOOOOOO_!"

Nine was still too astonished to care.

The bellhop flew through the halls at an alarming pace, rocketing past rooms that blurred behind them with their speed. It went straight through a greenhouse room, which left an upended pot plant on Eleven's head and a perfectly balanced apple on Nine's.

That only slowed it down a little. It turned onto a room shaped like an Olympic racetrack, the bellhop's wheels burning skid marks onto the ground. It went round and round the track, making Nine and Eleven dizzier and dizzier as it spun. Miraculously, the trunks didn't budge at all.

Somehow, it must have hit a loose piece of something, because suddenly, the whole thing, the Doctor included, was launched into the air. It sailed past the stands, giving what sounded like a final wheeze before making a steep descent into a pit of nothingness.

The blackness came up to meet them, but as they drew nearer, it seemed to clear up.

Into what suspiciously looked like the console room.

 ***Crash!***

An astonished Twelve looked up in shock at the sudden materialisation of a rockethop, several trunks and two Time Lords. The eldest Doctor sighed.

"I'm expecting you to clean this up."

All he received in reply was a thumbs up and some muffled groans.

* * *

 **Next, the Journey to Hogwarts! There's another reference in here, should be fairly obvious for those who know *wiggles eyebrows*  
**


	6. Onwards, to Academia

**Thank you to Qwen, doctorsparkle, Evenmoor, Rionant, crazybluewings, wiljeeenbroodje, Sombra-'AABatteries, OnASnowyDay, Tom-Riddle-Fan, Piersic, jmknz777, and TheWhoviansReturn for your support! :D**

 **As for the guest who left reviews about plagiarism...** ** _And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kid-_ Haha, no. I may have deleted them, but don't even think that I didn't see them. First of all, I had never heard of that story until then. Second of all, if you stop for a moment and read, maybe you might be able to stop embarrassing yourself in public. Might. I'm sure you're a *ahem* smart person, but stupidity really doesn't suit you. I could go on, but, in the wise words of Malcolm Tucker, fuckity bye~**

 **As for everyone else, I'm sorry you had to go through that. Now, the chapter.**

* * *

September the First didn't seem to come quickly enough for the Doctor. Following the incident with Carl the Fish, as that was what Eleven had named him, it was declared the final straw, and that was how Nine and Eleven settled for a petty prank war instead. Frankly, the Doctors were glad enough to be out and about, not just cooped up in the TARDIS.

So, come September morning, the TARDIS engines ground to a halt as she landed on a street corner, with King's Cross just a minute's walk away. The door slowly yawned open.

The first thing to fly out was a trunk. It hit the pavement with a thump. On the side, written in a messy scribble in the bottom right hand corner, was John Smith. Then another two followed suit, skidding to a halt next to the first.

The lids of the latter two rose up, revealing a cautious looking Ten and Eleven.

"Off you pop. Go and learn magic things."

Twelve's head stuck out from the TARDIS doors, eyebrows drawn together in a glower. He slammed the doors shut. If anything, the prank war had affected him the most, it being based in _his_ TARDIS, after all. Not a moment later, she started to fade, some odd papers and leaves swirling into the air around her until there was nothing but air in that space.

"Oh dear. Are we good? Are we well? Did he just-"

"Yeah…"

Ten and Eleven's shared look of bemusement and slight pain from the not so soft landing was interrupted by Nine, who had emerged from the depths of his trunk. The youngest of them fully pulled up the lids of his future selves' trunks, crossing his arms expectantly.

"Ah. Right. Yes. Sorry, we were just-"

"I know. Feel free to move whenever you want to, it's not like we'll end up being late or anything." With a little bit of hurrying and a bit of almost getting stuck, Ten and Eleven wriggled out from their trunks, smoothing out their clothes.

Even though Ten's hair was as uncontrollable as it ever was, there simply just wasn't a smaller size of his beloved coat, and had to just settle for a version of his brown pinstripes that actually fit. This was a fact that Eleven and Nine both took great pleasure in teasing over him, as they had managed to find practically exact dupes of their normal clothes, if not, just a tad bit overlarge for their small frames.

Said Ten grinned. "Allons-y!"

* * *

The three stood in the middle of the bustling King's Cross, trunks all stacked up on a singular trolley and rather precariously, at that. Ten had once again reclaimed his book from Twelve, and was now paging through it to find a description of where to go.

"Here we are! Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, three quarters the way between nine and ten, and no, I don't mean me and Grumpy here, the platforms, although technically-" He looked up, finding himself left behind by the rest of himself.

"Hee-ey! Wait up!"

Ten dashed to catch up, not even blinking as he passed through the barrier and onto the platform, where the gleaming red of the Hogwarts Express shone before him. For a moment, he was struck speechless at the sudden change of scenery, before two other simultaneous sounds of amusement drew his attention away from the steam engine and onto Nine and Eleven, each leaning on the trolley. Ten gave a small frown, but it soon changed to amusement of his own as two fell, bumping heads. The trolley rolled to a stop before him, which he peered around, opening his mouth in a crow of delight, yet was silenced by Nine's death glare.

Eleven, rubbing his head slightly, snatched back the trolley from the hands of Ten. "Oh good, for once, the motor mouth isn't saying anything." He sounded both pleased and a bit smug as well.

"Oh, don't start." Ten rolled his eyes, following his other two selves. The trio, with some shuffling and some muffled curses in Gallifreyan, managed to heave their trunks onto the train and into an empty compartment.

A little out of breath, the three Time Lords fell back onto the seats. Eleven was the first to vaguely even sit up. "Have you noticed," he took a breath, "That after all that running, something isn't adding up?"

Nine shot him a dirty look, the two still having not fully resolved their conflicts. "I'll tell you what isn't adding up," Here, he also had to pause for breath, "You do realise we aren't actually full grown right now. That sort of thing usually comes with side effects."

"Oi! I'm not stupid, you know!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed. Not with the way you keep blabbering on-"

"Me? More like the porcupine-"

"Can you all just shut up for a moment? Because I mean, the psychological effects of cabin fever shouldn't have persisted until now, unless this has to do with the prank war, which if you ask me, I have had enough of. Therefore, under Doctor's orders, I-"

" _SHUT UP_!"

"-prescribe aquarium therapy for the both of you."

Seemingly completely unaffected by both his fatigue and the outburst from Nine and Eleven, Ten heaved open the latter's trunk and bent in, oblivious to his complaints. A few moments were spent rummaging, but soon he straightened up, grasping Carl's fishbowl. Shutting the lid, he delicately placed it on top. However, this seemed like all he could take, as a moment later, Ten sank back onto the seat, unmoving.

And for a while, there was peace. Carl the Fish, who was actually feeling rather scared and also a bit shocked, swam around, wondering what was going on. The Hogwarts Express started up with a jolt, which only served to startle the poor goldfish even more. But, in all regards, Ten's aquarium therapy seemed to have worked, as the two squabblers were surprisingly content to sit and watch Carl swim around.

* * *

The English countryside was blurring past them when there was a knock on the door, accompanied by a series of clatters. The occupants of the compartment jumped, but Ten, sat closest to the door, dragged it open.

There stood the kindly witch with the sweets trolley.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

"Uh," Ten glanced back to his other selves, out of which, Nine rolled his eyes and shrugged, but Eleven smiled broadly and flashed his past self a thumbs up. "Sure,"

Ten dug into his pockets for a moment, coming up with a handful of gold and silver coins. He deliberated for a moment, but the witch had nothing but patience. Eventually he decided on a bit of everything. He wasn't buying just for himself, after all. If there was anything at all that he didn't like, maybe his future self would…

Ten pushed the door closed with his foot, dumping all of the food he'd bought onto an empty seat before sitting down himself. All three Doctors stared apprehensively at the pile for a moment, but Eleven was the first to take the plunge.

He reached for the pile, hand hovering for a small moment before settling on a box marked 'Chocolate Frogs'. The Time Lord looked at it dubiously, but there was also clear excitement on his face as well.

Eleven opened the box, pulling out a singular wrapped frog. With a shrug, he upended the box, scooping up a few and lobbing them at Ten and Nine. So aforementioned Doctors both made sounds of surprise and indignation. It was clear that none of them expected to have chocolate flying at them.

Meanwhile, Eleven had already unwrapped his frog, and was currently inspecting the wriggling chocolate. "You know," He remarked suddenly, "I wouldn't want to eat this, normally. But, when in Rome," He shrugged again, and took a bite of the Chocolate Frog. The thing sort of just fell limp after that.

Nine and Ten were looking at him somewhat oddly, but the eldest simply returned their gazes with an offended look. He set aside the card that came with it and swallowed audibly.

"What? It's good."

"Never mind…" Nine and Ten averted their eyes, and also started on their frogs as well.

The next half hour to hour was spent in a similar vein, from finishing the Chocolate Frogs and moving onto Bertie Bott's Beans.(It seemed as if they hadn't, as of yet, found anything that was either unidentifiable or disliked.)

But even that eventually ran out, and so, followed a session in which one would simply take something out of the pile, eat it, and if there were any others, give some to someone else.

In the midst of nibbling at Pumpkin Pasties, the door was opened by a rather nervous boy with blonde hair and a round face.

"Have you seen-"

"No, but if I were you, I'd go check around the toilets, because that's where you're most likely to find dank, damp things like toads, not that I have anything against toads, but honestly, they are a bit temperamental like that…Just don't tell him I said that."

Neville, who had barely managed to even ask, found this a bit too much, never minding the fact that they seemed to know what he was looking for without him even saying so. He nodded dumbly and closed the door on Ten, who blinked owlishly. He turned to the others, frowning.

"Was it something I said?"

"Yeah, you could say that…" Eleven coughed delicately, muffling a laugh. Meanwhile, Nine echoed Ten's frown. There was just something about this situation…

It was about a minute later that the door was opened again, this time by Neville and…

"Dear Rassilon, you can't be-!"

At this point, Eleven swamped Ten before the Time Lord's force-of-nature of a mouth could say anything else, clapping a hand over it and smiling genially at the two, who looked on, confused. "Ah, you'll have to excuse my friend here. He's a right old laugh, he is, but I'm sure you won't want to hear anything of his…"

For Nine, the gears in his mind fell into place as much as his jaw did. Frankly, he had no idea how they'd missed this…but it changed _everything_.

Somewhat disconcertingly, Hermione Granger cleared her throat and looked shrewdly at the trio, ignoring Neville behind her.

"Any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his."

Eleven, still muffling Ten's protests and attempts to escape, responded, unperturbed by his past self's struggling.

"Oh, sorry, no. We did suggest checking the toilets, but you know toads, they haven't got the best sense of direction. Might still be where you left it."

Hermione seemed to consider this for a minute.

"Hm, alright. I expect you'll want to change soon, seeing as we'll almost be there." She eyed the three's clothes, gaze lingering on Eleven's bow tie and Ten's pinstripes.

And she was gone, Neville seemingly following helplessly behind her.

Eleven released Ten, falling back onto his own seat. The latter glared at the former.

"What was that?! I had the situation in hand! I wasn't gonna say anything, I swear!"

Eleven snorted. "Oh, sure. Sure, sure. You nearly blew us!"

"Well, who would pass up a chance to talk to _Hermione Granger_?!"

He trailed off at the end of his sentence, eyes widening slightly in shock. He'd finally realised, and judging by Eleven, he had as well.

"Oh look, the two idiots finally realised. Yes, the year is indeed, and in fact, 1991. Ring a bell?" Nine's dry remark snapped the two from whatever stupor they were in.

"But then-"

"-The Stone! Troll in the dungeons-!"

"-Harry Potter!"

"And ring-a-ding-ding-ding, we have a winner!" Nine seemed none too impressed.

"But this means-"Ten hissed.

"We're right in the middle of everything!"

"And your ability to state the obvious astounds me." The youngest crossed his arms, replying deadpan.

There wasn't really anything Ten and Eleven could retaliate with, so they simply slumped.

"There really isn't anything we can do, isn't there…"

There was suddenly a great deal of commotion outside, from what sounded like the next compartment over. Ten shot up, opening the door a smidge, only to catch sight of the retreating backs of whom he now knew to Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy. He slid it closed.

"What was that?"

Ten laughed somewhat nervously. Oh dear. This was actually happening.

"Nothing."

Eleven sniffed, clearly unwilling to accept the response, but otherwise, said nothing about it.

"You know, I think we really should change right about now."

Carl the Fish was again, surprised to find himself moving, but this time, it was back into Eleven's trunk, him and a burgundy coat being exchanged for robes.

Nine and Ten mirrored Eleven, perhaps, slightly grudgingly. The former also had to exchange his leather jacket for the robes. Now sat in the compartment, all three were feeling somewhat silly, in what could really be called a glorified dress.

" _We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minute's time. Please leave your belongings on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."_

And so, the three left the relative comfort of their compartment, heading out into the sea of people. They were jostled about, not really moving as to more of being moved, but were able to keep in sight of each other.

The crowd thinned out slightly as they left the Express and ventured into the platform. They stood there for a moment, not too sure where to go, but thankfully the booming voice of Hagrid drew the Doctor/s over to his massive bulk.

Absently following with the crowd of first years, the collective "Oooh" did not exclude them at the sight of the castle. Given the fact that even though the Doctor had seen many castles in his long life, some were much deserved of how grand they were, and, Hogwarts was included.

With some jostling for space, the three succeeded in cramming, along with another boy, into the small boat that would cross the lake into the castle. Without further ado, the fleet of boats pushed off from the shore, drifting over the lake.

The backdrop of Hogwarts against the starry sky reflected on the lake, shaking slightly as the boats caused ripples over the water's surface. For the Doctor, they looked wistfully up or down at the stars, knowing that out there, somewhere, was somewhere they had been, and by extension, their home universe.

However nostalgic they were feeling, the boats landed ashore a subterranean harbour of sorts, those three were one of the first to step foot on the ground.

Positively bursting with excitement, the Doctor awaited with bated breath as Hagrid knocked on the ancient oaken door; the gateway to a land of magic and mystery.

* * *

 **Whew! Anyway, I am now on holidays! Honestly, I would have gotten this up earlier, but, I unexpectedly went on vacation to somewhere snowy, with not a lot of wifi. On the plus side though, I made a snow Dalek :D But, if it's any consolation, chapters should be somewhat more frequent for the next week or so. Next chapter, sorting :3**


	7. The Sort (of messes they'll get into)

**Thank you to Formusan, scarletstrong, Nooppi5, Qwen, coe mcgraph, Aviva West and TheHornyPurpleBunnyIsBonnie for your support :D**

 **The long awaited chapter- Sorting! PS you guys, 1900 views! Amazing 3 We're so close to 2000! Thanks you guys so very much!  
**

* * *

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,"

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

"… Well, she looks better than she does in the movies, that's for sure." Ten's mumbles were once again nipped in the bud by Eleven's handy walloping elbow. Thankfully, the stern witch didn't have seemed to have heard.

The procession of first years flowed discordantly across the flagstones of the Entrance Hall, in a sort of ragtag mess. It was clear that one, or all Doctor would have loved to stay there for a longer instance, but they were already ushered an empty chamber off of it.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into you houses." Until then, the Doctor/s hadn't exactly been paying too much to whatever Professor McGonagall had been saying. They perked up now, exchanging looks.

While the Transfiguration Professor continued on, the three were holding a silent argument cross discussion through eye contact. Despite them all practically being the same person, it wasn't actually going that well and there were some misunderstandings that weren't voiced.

"-I hope you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Maybe he was just imagining it, but did her gaze linger on them for just a moment after the others? Ten silently gulped, hoping his hair wasn't the cause. As it were, Eleven was secretly thankful that the others had wrestled him into a proper tie, not that he'd admit it. Still, he should do something about it as soon as possible…

As soon as she left the first years burst into muted conversation. The Time Lords took this chance to have a conversation. Or, another argument, only verbal this time.

"How are we going to do anything when we're sorted into different houses?"

"I would first worry about if we are, you know."

"Oh come on, Ears! We all know we are."

Eleven led off, prompting Nine's dry tones.

"There's always free periods, after class and stuff, right? I'm sure we'll be fine." Ten interrupted the two. Eleven threw his predecessor a withering glare.

"Say that again when everyone in your house lynch you for never shutting up." The end of his sentence was punctuated with screams. Lightning fast out of habit, the Doctors' heads whipped around, seeking out the source of commotion.

The ghosts had arrived, floating through the walls as if they weren't even there. In the spectral department, they ranked fairly high in the ghostly. Cyberghosts had nothing on these things.

"-I say! What are you all doing here?"

There was a beat where nobody answered. Then, a voice spoke up.

"I would say it's because we got off the Hogwarts Express and took the boats here. Actually, then we followed Hagrid and Professor McGonagall here."

It was Ten, who did not look abashed in the slightest. Everybody in the room stared at him, and he still didn't look bothered.

The Fat Friar laughed heartily, beaming from ear to ear. A few other chuckles from the other ghost sounded as well.

"New students, then! About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Well, yes. I suppose we are. Exciting, now that I think about it!"

There was a chortle from the ghost. "Well, then. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

The conversation could have surely carried on longer, but the Professor McGonagall swept into the room and shooed them off. "Now form a line, and follow me."

This time they weren't so lucky as to stick together. The following hustling around dislodged them from their positions, and one lost sight of the others, as went the other way round as well.

The stream of first years flooded out into the Entrance Hall, and into the Great Hall.

If not for the amazing amount of self-control each iteration of the Doctor possessed, they may have just stopped right there and held up the line. Then again, there was a constant pace to be kept…

The line eventually settled, and the Doctor/s turned to whatever interested them most, which actually turned out to be the translucent ceiling above them.

It was a miracle then and there that none of them actually had the thought of redecorating the TARDIS interior of something similar- seeing galaxies and asteroids and planets, even the Time Vortex around them as they travelled, but then again, it would get very disorientating after a while.

There was silence from the first years. Professor McGonagall placed a hat on a stool in front of them. A moment passed in absolute stillness.

Then the Hat opened near the brim like a jagged tear, not unlike the cracks that haunted Eleven, and it began to _sing_.

" _Oh you may not think I'm pretty…"_

* * *

" _-For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

There was great applause, amongst which were the relieved whispers of many a first year, the three Time Lords not included, although they did clap in varying levels of enthusiasm.

'Unfortunate' as it was, the trio's last names were found in the latter half of the alphabet, and so, had to wait through minutes of eleven years trying on the hat and be sent off.

There went one, there went another, another, oh look-

"Noble, John!"

Ten almost didn't quite catch his name being called, but blinked, realised and dashed forward with some apologies to take his place on the stool. It was with belated horror that he also realised that the Hat would be now privy to his memories, unless his shields were capable of shutting it out from-

 _Quite the worrier, aren't you? I can see them all here- My, you aren't an ordinary child, are you? Whatever are you doing here?_

-his memories.

 _Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me._ The Hat seemed to laugh, only very quietly.

… _I really hope I can trust you._

 _My, ah, lips, are sealed. But enough about me, this is_ your _sorting, after all! Enjoy it, why don't you?_

 _I guess so._ Reluctance on the Doctor's end.

 _Now, what have we got here… Oho! I can see you really aren't from here, are you? Gallifrey, Gallifrey, funny that- Ah, well. That's a story for another time. And, you're not alone!_

 _I mean, technically, I am… We_ are _essentially the same person._

 _Oh shush- I'm still going to sort_ you _where you're going. I can worry about them when it's their turn._

 _Huh. Well then, great and illustrious Hat, where am I to be staying? Mind, I've got some ideas of my own, but you've been doing this longer than I have, so you must have some idea, right?_

 _Very funny, you. The question of the matter is this. Where would_ you _like to go?_

 _Me? W-what? Why are you asking me? I thought you chose for them?_

 _That's just it, isn't it? You fit well almost everywhere. Gryffindor would gladly have you. Selfless, brave, and rushing into danger at every corner. My, my, the sparks you'd make._

 _That's not true,_ The Doctor countered the Hat, frowning slightly under the brim. _I run away. I don't really think I'm that brave. You've got me on the danger part, but that's-_

 _I'm not done, am I? So be quiet for once, goodness knows people will appreciate it._

And that certainly shut him right up, at least, for now.

 _Hufflepuff would also be glad to have you, I see. What's this- many fair chances offered, none taken- for three months, even? Ah, but somehow, I don't think that's where you'll find your calling._

 _Oh. I didn't really want to let down the Fat Friar, but I guess it really is up to you._

 _You still have a choice, have you not? And who said you could talk? Well, we're only halfway there, you know._

 _You could be great in Slytherin. The waves you could make! Get those lazy purebloods off their arses, certainly. All these clever plans, Sally Sparrow and the Angels? A Year-That-Never-Was? I sense a nice heap of ambition here as well. The Time Lord Victorious, eh?_

 _Don't. Don't go there. Whatever you do…just don't. I don't want to talk about it. I've left that behind. It was a mistake. One I'll never make again._

 _Hmf._ The hat sounded disappointed, but carried on nonetheless. _Shame. I suppose you know what's next then?_

 _Ravenclaw, isn't it?_

 _Correct. The house of the clever, the logical and those of wit. Those who think and invent, see outside social constructs. Of course, I only say this as this would be a marvellous fit for you, and I have no shame in saying so._

 _When you put it like that, I have to agree._

 _I predict you'll change it drastically, if you so choose. There was a time where those 'claws would do something_ other _than read all day. Those were the days, I tell you-_

 _Hat, you're rambling. What do I do?_

 _I bet you're the life of the party. It's not like you can say anything, can you? Anyway, Ravenclaw. They're eccentric enough for you._

 _Am I not too much?_

 _No, you're fine. It's getting to be quite a long time. Oh, a word of advice, watch out for the others in your house year. You probably know this already, but when they get competitive, they get competitive. Besides, you're interesting. I'm looking forward to your other selves, but, I'll have to send you on your way to-_

" **RAVENCLAW!"**

 _What-! Hat, you said I had a choice!_

 _I lied. Now, off you go! Don't waste my time!_

Ten peeled the Hat away from his head, looking a bit dazedly at the shell-shocked occupation of Hogwarts. His internal time sense fluctuated for a second, but spat out an approximation. Five minutes and thirteen seconds. He set the Hat down awkwardly on the stool and made his way over to the Ravenclaw table. It was only then on his walk down did the applause kick in at full force.

He slid into an empty spot and abruptly thunked his head onto the table. Dear Rassilon that was tiring. And if that was any indication, he had lots of questions coming his way…

* * *

Eleven was the next incarnation to go. He, admittedly, had been somewhat surprised when his younger self was sorted to Ravenclaw, but upon reflection, found it all quite a logical choice.

However, the wait was not appreciated. This was the first actual 'Hatstall' in over fifty years. Of course, it had to happen to him, or, a version of him.

Idly, he began to categorise who would be going, descending down the ranks until he got to himself-

"Pond-Song, John!"

Well. What a coincidence.

Ignoring the murmurs through the hall at having two first years named the same, Eleven stumbled his way up to the stool, and with none too much enthusiasm, dropped the hat over his head. _Well, this is boring. Isn't there supposed to be a thing?_

 _And what thing would that be? Don't shout. Can't you give an old hat a break?_

 _Oh! Good! It's nice to meet you. Where am I going?_

 _Don't get impatient with me. Goodness, I liked your younger one better._

 _Whuh? Him? But then that means-_

 _I can see your memories, yadda yadda, I'm not telling them to anybody, yada yada, trust me. He did_.

 _We're-_

 _The same person. Yes, I got that the first time around. Not Ravenclaw for you, though. You're not that much of a booky type. You have the intellect for it, but it's not for you._

 _Oh. Well, I can't say I was hoping for it, but, you've been doing this longer._

 _Alright, alright. What do you think of Gryffindor? I've said this to him, but your opinion_ is _counted as well._

 _Not opposed to it, if that's what you're wondering. But is that really what you think of me?_

 _Stubborn, righteous, do gooder-ing, house? Very you. Lots of courage, I see here, but… maybe there's somewhere else for you._

 _Are you thinking of-_

 _Hufflepuff? Yes. If there's anything you have, it's loyalty, in spades. Amelia Pond, and you'd change someone's life for a chance to save her. Honestly, jumping into your own timestream to save Clara?_

 _I'd rather you didn't actually talk about those, thanks._

The Hat grumbled. _What's the point of the Sorting if you can't talk about strong points? Well, you'd better be off._

" **HUFFLEPUFF!"**

The table in question cheered and clapped as their newest addition took off the hat and set it down on the stool. He made his way over to the table, somewhat distractedly.

This was certainly a new experience.

* * *

If anything, the line seemed to crawl on even longer after Harry Potter was sorted.

Realistically, there was only a short amount of time to Nine's Sorting, except it seemed to drag on forever.

 _Finally,_ "Smith, John!" was called out, and completely oblivious to the mutters that yet again, there was another John, he made his way to the front of the thinning crowd of first years and took his place on the stool.

 _Another one! So you're the last one, eh? Good riddance._

 _The Hat, I presume?_

 _Correct. Now, where shall I put you? Slytherin? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? Or Gryffindor?_

 _You're the Hat. You tell me._

 _Hah!_ The Hat scoffed. _Don't get mouthy with me. Courage aplenty, I see. Oh, there's smarts alright, but you_ are _a man of action, aren't you?_

 _Can you get on with it?_ Irritation flashed from the Doctor.

 _Insolence isn't just limited to one, I see. You've seen your fair share of horrors, haven't you? Always the hero, brave and kindly. You'll go far, as long as you can keep your tongue straight. Somehow, I doubt that'll happen though._

" **GRYFFINDOR!"**

With that proclamation, the hall filled with applause. Nine set the hat back down on its stool, giving it a dark look.

The Hat had seen into his memories, hadn't it? And those of himselves in the future as well…

But this was not the time to think about it. Nine settled into a space next to some other first years, of which, he noted, was the oh-so-famous Harry Potter. Well. This could be interesting.

* * *

 **Sorry if it doesn't seem as good. Be sure to tell me what you think of my decisions, however cliche they are ^^;.**


	8. The First Night

**;w; it's been so long since i've updated and I'm so sorry! Unfortunately, real life decided to hit me in the face, and I am sure will continue to do so T-T Rest assured, I will try to get this back into a faster updating schedule, because now the fun part begins! hehe I'm sorry if this seems like crap. Just trying to get back into the swing of this fic, and Nine is actually really difficult to write. Anywhoooo, I won't bore you any longer.**

 **Since it's been so long since I last updated, it'll be a bit of a hassle to list everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed since then, so I'll just give a big thanks to those who did. You guys rock! :D**

 **As an added bonus/apology, a longer chapter AND a preview snippet of the next!**

* * *

As he was the first to be sorted, Ten, or rather, 'John Noble,' as he was supposed to be, sat down with an air of grace that belied the situation that he was stuck in, and promptly thumped his head onto the table. The applause petered out soon after he sat down, most of the school turning their attention back to the Hat for the next sorting, though there were still some hushed whispers and glancing in his direction.

As for Ten, who was still very much in range to see and hear some of those whispers, raised his head enough to send some of them pointed looks and that promptly quietened them down.

In the meantime, he had sandwiched himself down in an empty space between someone he believed to be Terry Boot and another person he also presumed to be Mandy Brocklehurst, presumably sitting close together due to the closeness of their sorting.

Said Terry Boot gave a broad grin and held out his hand for Ten to shake, which, upon picking himself up, he did absently, now in a more viable position to study… well, the whole hall.

"Nice going back there, mate! Name's Terry. Terry Boot."

Ten blinked, meeting the other boy's eyes. He grinned. "Nice to meet you, Terry! I'm the D- John! John Noble! But that's enough about me, what about you? Do they ever call you Terry the terrier? Terry the Terror? No? Is that just me then..? Just me then…"

Terry withdrew his hand, sparing an odd look to Ten for a moment before he gave a small laugh. "Has anyone told you you're a little strange? And for your information, no, they haven't ever called me any of those."

"Well, they ought to start, then, shouldn't they? Actually, scratch that, those are terrible nicknames- Terry is just fine. I suppose it's short for something, isn't it?"

Just then, their little conversation was stopped by a disapproving look from Mandy. "If you two are quite finished now," she started dryly, "I believe the Headmaster has something to say."

Terry looked indignant. "And what's it to you?-" But he was rather rudely hushed by Ten, who, instead of wanting to listen to a trivial disagreement, that, in all sincerity, he hadn't the slightest care about, wanted to hear what Dumbledore had to say.

"Welcome!" the professor began, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few word. And here they are!

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

As everyone began clapping, Ten clapped along eagerly as well, even if he couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed that… that was just it, and there wasn't anything extra.

Terry leaned in to speak with him over the sound of dying applause. "Bit odd, isn't he? What do you suppose those words meant? Oh hey! Look! Food!" And he promptly became distracted by the sudden appearance of the Welcoming Feast.

"I don't really know…" Ten said aloud, pausing in consideration for a moment before he shrugged and began filling his own plate. If he had hoped for peace, it was short lived.

"So you're the new kid who stalled out the Hat, eh?" Ten blinked, but then his brain caught up with his ears.

"Oh! Uh, if that counts, yes?" He turned to the person who asked. Going from the shiny badge pinned to his robes, he was a prefect.

The prefect chortled. "Yeah, pretty sure it does, kiddo. Welcome to Ravenclaw! Name's Robert Hilliard. You're..." He paused for a moment. "Noble. John Noble, yeah?"

"Actually, no-" Ten was about to correct Robert, but suddenly remembered his cover name. "Actually nothing! Eheh, yes. That's right. John Noble, me alright. Very ordinary, normal, name. John Noble." He amended with a rush of rambling words, and promptly stuffed his mouth with a bread roll as to keep his mouth shut. Terry shot him yet another odd look.

"Right," Robert seemed somewhat put off by this strange First Year, but shrugged it off. "So, welcome. Again. Here in Ravenclaw, I think you'll find that we actually care about our studies," A disdainful look thrown towards the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "Unlike some others."

"Ah well..." Ten began to say something, but he trailed off, and Robert took that as a chance to continue, addressing the general population of new students.

"So, if all you firsties look to the Head Table," Some shuffling as the first years craned this way and that way to get a look at the table at the front of the hall. "You'll see Professor Dumbledore, that's the headmaster with the white beard. Over there is Professor Flitwick, the short one, and he's the head of Ravenclaw house."

There were some doubtful murmurs after that, but Ten wisely kept his mouth shut. Robert only smirked and kept on. "And he was a champion duelist in his younger days, so don't underestimate him."

Which seemed to be trick, as it snapped shut the mouths of all the doubters. The nearby upper years all laughed or smiled. It seemed that this was a regular occurrence. Someone from down the table asked why he was so short, but was quickly hushed by someone close to them. This elicited another burst of laughter.

"There's always someone, isn't there?" Robert shook his head, smiling gently.

With a little reprieve, the Doctor glanced up, observing the stars visible through the transparent roof. It didn't look all too different from the night sky in his home universe, that was for sure, but from what he could see, there were a few that didn't show up.

Next, he risked a look towards the other tables, first observing the hunched form of his future incarnation at the Hufflepuff table. While he hadn't pegged himself for someone overly fair or loyal, it was nice to have an indication of how his future was coming along.

Meanwhile on the Gryffindor table, he had to suppress a cringe. He knew how… abrasive that particular incarnation had been, and even though he fit them to a T, he was sure to butt heads with a few others.

"-So, what happened back there?"

"Whuh?" He suddenly found himself in the middle of dessert, and also the subject of a question in which he didn't quite hear. Ten scrambled to remember from amidst the distraction of a few minutes before.

"Oh…! Oh! You mean the Hat?"

Sounds of confirmation. Nearly everyone sitting around him seemed to be watching him. He ran a hand through his hair, which, despite all odds, still remained as uppity as always.

"Er, it wasn't that much. The Hat, er, we talked. About things, like houses, and me, and things like the houses."

"Well, yes, but what about?" It was Robert who spoke, gazing at him with interest.

"Well, if you were expecting an intellectual conversation, it wasn't that. It was more like, what about this house? And I went, maybe, And then, what about this one? I went, well, maybe. And you sort of get the picture, until the Hat just sort of," He gestured helplessly, "Pushed me into this house. And that's that."

Everyone gaped at him, and he scratched his head nervously.

"That can't be it," Someone said faintly. "I mean, the last time anyone was there for that long was Professor McGonagall, and she was only _two_ houses."

It was the only warning he got before clamour broke out, and Ten was feeling somewhat overwhelmed when a voice cut in.

"Alright, alright! Break it up! You can ask about this all later or research it or something, you dirty bibliophiles."

There was a rush of laughter at that, and soon everyone returned back to their dessert. Robert chuckled, because, as it turned out, it was him who had broken up the commotion.

"Watch yourself, kiddo."

Which left Ten back to a bowl of half eaten banana ice cream.

He finished it, wondering what to do now, but was thankfully saved by the Headmaster's address.

If he knew anything about himself, then they all would definitely want to investigate the third floor corridor sometime soon. He thought for a moment. Would the protections even be in place yet? Yes? No?

Would it interfere with fixed time? Well, there was only one way to find out… but probably not just yet. There were other things to discover, like secret passages and hidden rooms and things!

But the announcement of the new teacher had him feeling slightly on edge. Why did he get the feeling that something was going to go wrong?

Ten was one of the ones to sing loudest at his table, not quite sure what tune he had taken except that it didn't sound any out of place than the others.

On the way to Ravenclaw Tower, Terry tapped him to get his attention.

"Oi, John. Was it true? What you said about the Sorting Hat?"

"Hm? Oh, well, yes, I suppose." Ten decided to leave out the details about who he really was. "We discussed the pros and cons of each house, and whether or not it was the best for me. Oh look, we made it!" He said with slight surprise and delight.

Robert stopped at the bronze eagle knocker, turning to face the assembled crowd of first years.

"Alright, listen up you lot. The way this works is this. You're the house of the smart kids, so put that brain to use." He nodded to the knocker.

"The knocker will ask a question, a riddle or something like that, and you answer it. If you're right, you get in. If you're wrong, you try again or someone else who knows lets you in. Simple as that. Now then, anyone want to try?"

There was a silence for a little while. It seemed like no one wanted to go up and be asked something they got wrong.

"I'll do it!"

Ten stepped bravely ahead with a slight sense of déjà vu. Had this, or something like it happened before? Robert beamed.

"I like you more and more, kiddo. Up you go, give it a try. Even if you get it wrong, you'll learn from your mistake.

As Ten approached the knocker, it blinked to life. _"How many seconds in eternity?"_

Ten stopped, not noticing the interested looks of everyone there. Well, how should he answer it? There was the story of the little bird, but maybe that would be too long?

"Well," he said slowly. "I would say none. Eternity is a concept of forever, and forever is intangible, to say the least. Everything has an end, it's just that most never get to live through it, thereby assuming that there are things that never end. Thereby assuming that time is just an illusion."

" _Well reasoned."_ The knocker said, perhaps with a touch of approval. Then, the doors swung open, inviting the group into Ravenclaw Tower.

It was a large, open space dressed in tones of blue, bronze and white, decorated with arched windows and elegant looking bookcases and furniture. A marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood proudly in the room, just as it was described. It was with a jolt that Ten realised that the ceiling was painted with stars that reflected onto the carpets. It gave him a slight flash of homesickness and accompanying wanderlust, but he brushed it away.

Robert clapped his hands together, addressing the first years. "Well, then, welcome to your second home! I'm sure you're all very tired, so I invite you all to explore at your leisure tomorrow. Now, off you go! To bed! Just go through the door beside the statue, girls on the right and boys on the left."

With that, the group split for their respective dormitories, a most of them exchanging 'good night's and the occasional 'good job' to Ten on his answer for the door.

Unlike the others in his dorm, Ten didn't start getting ready for bed straight away. Instead, there was a window set into the wall beside his bed, which he just stood by for a while, looking out over the grounds.

"You alright mate?" It was Terry, who had settled on the bed next to his, looking at him quizzically. Ten smiled a little, not looking away.

"Yeah… Just, reminds me of home…" He said softly. It was true. While he'd never say so out loud, the view of faraway mountains and the school grounds reminded him of Gallifrey more than he cared for. "Sorry."

But Terry had already fallen asleep, leaving just him awake in the room. He spared the window one last glance before he himself settled in for the night.

* * *

Next to having been sorted was Eleven, or more accurately, 'John Pond-Song', which he still wasn't over. Whatever cruel twist of fate that had given him that name, he cursed. So what if he was married? And had travelled with his in-laws? That wasn't any reason for his name… was it?

But he cleared those thoughts as he approached the Hufflepuff table. There was a little shuffling at a point, and a face popped out, waving him over. Without any particular place to sit and also not wanting to be rude (good heavens he was rude enough normally), he took a spot, or more accurately, wedged himself into a space between two boys, one of which sincerely looked as if he did not want to anywhere near Eleven, and scooted away, turning up his nose at him.

With a little more space, Eleven budged over just a spot, letting the other boy who was not opposed to his presence, and whom Eleven assumed may be Ernie Macmillan, hold out a hand for him to shake, which he did with great gusto.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan." Which did confirm Eleven's suspicions, though he inwardly dreaded what might come next. "Who might you be?"

"Ah," He started, drawing out the word. He cringed inwardly as he replied. "Er- Pond. Song. Pond-Song. John Pond-Song, that is."

Ernie blinked, frowning slightly. "Pond…Song? Is that a wizarding name? I'm not judging," He quickly added. "But it's just a bit, well, unique, isn't it?"

"Oh…" Eleven rubbed his head, smiling awkwardly. "You could say that, I guess… But no, not really. Not a traditional name, no."

"Ah, well, that's fine with me! We're all friends here in Hufflepuff, no matter your family ties!"

"…Speak for yourself…" The boy who had edged away mumbled. In fact, any normal person wouldn't have caught it, but, seeing as Eleven wasn't a normal person, he did, though he didn't actually choose to comment on it.

A girl from beside Ernie leant over and lightly hit him on the arm, laughing softly. "Isn't it a bit early for that sort of house pride? We've barely even started!"

Ernie himself laughed in return. "It's never too early! Might as well get started on it early, right?" At Eleven's somewhat confused look, he motioned to the girl, who waved. "This is Hannah Abbott. I met her on the train earlier. I'm quite glad we're in the same house, actually."

Hannah nodded. "It's quite nice to see a familiar face." She suddenly brightened, gesturing to the Head Table. "Oh look! I think they're going to speak now!"

And indeed, she was right. After the headmaster had made his speech, the food suddenly materialised on the table, a scrabbling of hands reaching for whatever they wanted. Eleven himself sat, somewhat dazed, but shook himself.

He scanned the table, looking for one particular item… or technically, two. With no progress being made, he turned to Ernie, who had a mouthful of potatoes. "I don't suppose you've seen any fish fingers and custard, have you?"

"Wha'?" Ernie swallowed, taking a swig of what was probably pumpkin juice. "Erm, no. Very sorry…" And went back to eating.

Eleven sighed. Perhaps a trip to the kitchens would soon be in order. Instead, he helped himself to some Yorkshire pudding, which, while wasn't fish fingers and custard, was an acceptable substitute, considering he did practically invent the thing.

Well, it was an acceptable substitute up until the point where he was suddenly reminded of days past with the Ponds… which were admittedly bittersweet. He stared glumly down at the leftovers, and sighed, pushing it to the side of his plate. It suddenly didn't taste all that good anymore.

Instead, he simply pulled a bit of whatever was closest onto his plate, never minding if they weren't meant to be eaten together. He had set a precedent for that anyway.

Soon enough, the plates finally cleared up as dessert took its place. At this point, Eleven was feeling somewhat better, and so, he took a helping of custard, which, even without fish fingers, wasn't bad in itself. In fact… he grabbed a bowl of jelly babies, taking a moment to blink and wonder as to why they were there in the first place, and tipped almost the whole lot into the custard.

It wasn't fish fingers, but he never did grow out of jelly babies anyway.

The others around him watched in some horror as he mixed it all up, and taking up a spoon, ate the mix. Ernie looked faintly sick.

"John… I don't… I don't think those are supposed to go together…"

Eleven dragged out the spoon from his mouth, waving it at Ernie. "Oh, pish posh! How would you ever know if you haven't ever tried it? I know for a fact that it tastes perfectly fine- Perfectly divine, in fact!"

"Well…If it suits you, I suppose it's each to their own…" And dessert carried on as if nothing had ever happened.

A little while soon after, the desserts vanished, and everyone quietened to hear Professor Dumbledore.

"Ahem, just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

A little part of Eleven hadn't really registered the 'forbidden' part. Rather, he was thinking more of whatever could be in there, excluding what he already knew to be there.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

Quidditch? He hadn't ever considered it. Should he try it in future…? Well, Eleven decided inwardly, it couldn't hurt to try. Besides, flying! On brooms! Flying brooms! But it was what was said next that caught his attention, and what followed after that.

"There has also been a slight change to the staff roster. As I am sure our older students will recall, the subject of Astronomy has long since been taught by Professor Aurora Sinistra. However, she will be on leave for some time, as I recall correctly, she is departing on a sabbatical. As a result, Astronomy will be taught by a new professor." Dumbledore paused slightly. "He has not seemed to have arrived yet, but I am sure he will be present very soon. I hope you will all give him a warm welcome in your Astronomy periods."

There was something niggling in the back of his mind, even as much of the student population gave collective groans and murmurs of discussion. For one, a sabbatical right on this year was far too suspicious…

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Oh! Exciting! Never mind the fact that he knew _why,_ if there was one thing that he always wanted to do, it would probably be to play against that giant chess set. But then Eleven paused, frowning slightly. Would that mess up the timeline? Was that a fixed point? It was hard to tell… At any rate, he could probably drag his other selves into it and get their advice. Not that he needed it.

It was with a start that he realised the school song had suddenly started, and with a grin, sang along in an ancient power ballad from two galaxies over.

There was a moment of peace after the Headmaster dismissed them before the houses burst into chatter as they prepared to retire for the night.

Actually, it took a bit of dedicated tapping from Ernie before Eleven noticed and followed sheepishly along with the rest of his year. They passed by the kitchens on the way down to the Hufflepuff dormitories, something which Eleven decided to keep in mind for later, or, possibly tomorrow.

Eventually, the came to a stop in front of some barrels, the prefect leading them showing them the pattern to tap on which one, which, thankfully, Eleven did memorise. The barrel swung open, and the first year Hufflepuff cautiously flooded through, with the exception of one boisterous Time Lord, who bounded ahead.

"Oh, that's lovely! Reminds me of the time I spent living with otters…" He half mumbled to himself at the end. The rest of the year group was now flooding forward with interest, chorusing in 'oohs' and 'aahs'.

The common room definitely had the cosy-homely feel. It was round, sort of like a badger's set, fittingly, decorated with different plants and such. All in all, Eleven thought he might like it here.

Soon enough though, the gawping came to an end, and the prefects directed them to their dorms.

Naturally, the first thing Eleven thought to do was to do a great flop onto the bed he'd claimed as his own. He craned his head up to look at the others he'd be sharing a room with for the foreseeable future, haphazardly stringing names to the faces.

One of them would be Justin Finch-Fletchley, another was Ernie, one that was probably Zacharias Smith and er… he wracked his brain, trying to remember the name that was called… Wayne… Something or other. Whatever.

Everyone else wasn't too interested in what he was doing anyway, more interested in looking through their trunks for probably their pyjamas, which occurred to Eleven, that he probably should as well.

Groaning slightly, he dragged himself to the edge of the bed and opened it. He groaned even more when he saw where they were. At the bottom. He wriggled, sticking his whole arm in, trying to get them.

Normally, he would have been able to reach them with ease, but while he was stuck as eleven years old? No way. Eleven strained a little more, trying to reach it… and fell in headfirst.

"Whaargh-!"

On the bright side though, he landed in a pile of clothes, so it softened his fall considerably. Shaking his head, he rifled through the pile and pulled out the pyjamas. Shrugging slightly, he decided to just get changed there. It would save him the trouble of climbing back up and then changing there.

With that done, he finally emerged from the trunk, only to find that everyone else had already fallen asleep.

Eleven pouted slightly, but sighed. Humans and their sleep.

He fell back onto the bed. It was a little unclear how much sleep he'd need, considering that normally, he seldom needed any at all, but, he supposed, eight hours a week (at least, Earth equivalent), like he had when he was this age back on Gallifrey would do…

He yawned. Maybe he'd best get started on those eight hours.

* * *

'John Smith' was not feeling all too happy right now.

Okay, so sure, Nine had been sorted into the house for heroes, but never let it be said that he _felt_ like one.

Still, it was over and done with already so he might as well start dealing with it.

He settled into a spot beside Hermione Granger, who did not seem to notice, or, if she did, didn't care. Nine slumped slightly, watching the procession go through of the remaining first years. There wasn't anything particularly odd about it, and it just sort of left him wishing, very faintly, for something to happen for once.

Eventually, the whole Sorting process finished, the Headmaster's words along with it. While he had no idea what he meant by those words, he appreciated them all the same.

With the appearance of food, but still lacking anything more interesting, Nine resigned himself to just pulling a bit of anything off the platters and onto his plate.

It was a little bit before the conversation turned to something of note, namely, Nearly Headless Nick, or, as the ghost preferred, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, which, Nine wondered distractedly, how he even got that name.

Nine looked down for a moment, intent on dealing with a stubborn pea when he suddenly realised how quiet the table had gone around him. He looked up, witnessing Sir Nick's almost-but-not-quite beheading for himself.

"Is that it?" He said flatly. Eerie, yes. Something he hadn't seen before, no. Everyone blinked at him. Sir Nick himself shot a somewhat irritated glance at Nine before he righted himself.

"So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Everybody craned to look over at the Slytherin table, where the ghost in question was sitting.

Somebody asked about why he was covered in blood. Nine had half the mind to answer when he remembered that he didn't remember, and so, settled for a sigh. Maybe he would find a way to get his hands on the copy of the books… Wherever his next incarnation had stashed them.

The rest of dinner rolled around without anything else of particular note. After all, if your table had Harry Potter, wouldn't you want to talk to him instead of everyone else?

When the food faded and dessert began to take its place, only then did Nine find himself, albeit it unwittingly, the centre of attention. The rest of the first years were staring at him expectantly.

"What?" He asked crossly.

"Oh, nothing, nothing!" Seamus Finnigan replied hastily. "It's just, we were talking about our families and all that, so, we wanted to know, what's yours like?"

Nine stared blankly at him for a moment before someone else cut in.

"Did you know those other two? The ones that went to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? The, er, one with the big chin and the other one who stayed under the hat for so long."

"They're," Nine thought quickly, searching for a response. Brothers would be too strange, childhood friends, except that came with even more lies that he'd need to remember. But…. "Cousins. We're cousins. There was a joke with our parents and that's the story of Johns. Come from all different walks of life, we do."

"That's it?"

"What else d'ya want?" He pointed the banana in his hand at them, and they ducked their head, leaving Nine with a satisfied smirk.

There was a brief period of peace, but it was broken soon enough. Nine shot a sideways glance at Harry, who had suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead, no doubt something to do with the scar.

The Time Lord followed his gaze up to the High Table, frowning slightly. There was Snape, of course, and Quirrelmort, though technically he shouldn't know that, but there was something else that was off about the whole picture. Was it because someone was missing? But who…?

"Sorry to interrupt," he cut into the middle of Percy and Harry's discussion, both of whom blinked at him. "But up on the High Table. Is there someone missing?"

They all looked towards it. Percy's brow furrowed. "Actually, now that you mention it, you're right. There, on the far end. There's an empty spot. That's usually where Professor Sinistra sits, she teaches Astronomy," he added for Harry's confused look. "But she's not there… Maybe she's just ill or something."

"Right…" Nine was doubtful. There was definitely something odd here.

But, Professor Dumbledore had already begun his announcements, of which, he was surprised to hear, and no doubt along with some others, the sabbatical of Professor Sinistra. Alright. That settled it. Tomorrow at breakfast, he'd gather himselves up for a discussion. The Stone could wait.

And when it was time to sing, he could say with absolute certainty that he did NOT join in.

The whole proceeding eventually finished, leaving the first year Gryffindors to follow Percy through the masses of the rest of the school, up the marble staircase and other doorways and things.

Even as everyone else stared at Peeves and his walking sticks, Nine just crossed his arms, staring expectantly at the poltergeist, who did nothing more than cackle and dive bomb them. Fortunately, he had the reflexes to push Neville aside as the walking sticks clattered down on where he would have been. They rolled for a bit and promptly dropped off the edge of the stairs.

"Be more careful, mate."

Neville flushed, looking away in embarrassment. "S-sorry. T-thank you."

Nine sighed with just a touch of exasperation. "And don't stutter. You know who stutters? People who're sorry for themselves. You're not sorry for yourself, so kindly de-stutterise."

"Sorry." Neville mumbled, and that seemed to be that.

This could be the start of something great.

In due time, they came up to the Fat Lady's portrait. "Password?"

"Caput Draconis," pronounced Percy clearly, and Nine stored that away for later. It wouldn't do to forget it, even if he didn't deign to remember other things.

The portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall, which led to the Gryffindor Common Room, complete with its cosiness and… quite a lot of red. An alarming level, actually. And gold as well.

However, there wasn't too much time to observe it, as they were shortly ushered along into their dormitories.

The Gryffindor boy's dorm was located at the top of the stairs, red being a very prominent colour.

The assembled boys all looked exhausted, with the exception of Nine, who didn't look as dead tired as the others. They all wandered around the room, locating which trunk was theirs and doing any necessary swapping for favoured beds.

"Who's this one with the circle-thingos?" Nine glanced over to Ron, who was looking dubiously at the Gallifreyan trunk.

"That's mine," Nine went over to it, eyeing the Gallifreyan on it. He tried not to think of it as a dead language… considering he was still alive…

"Why's it got circles?"

"Call it a family tradition, and that's all you're getting out of me."

"Sui-t yourself mate…" Ron yawned halfway through his sentence, ambling away in search of his own trunk.

Nine flipped open his trunk, digging through a layer of things to find some pyjamas. While he hadn't expected to sleep much during his stay, the side-effects of being stuck in a de-aged body probably meant he'd need to on a semi-regular basis.

Still, he didn't need to spend the entire night resting. As the others turned in for the night, Nine clambered down into the trunk, silently thanking the fact that it was bigger on the inside.

The Time Lord picked a random textbook off from a stack to the side. Some light reading wouldn't hurt, and with that, he turned open the page and started reading, intending on taking his time.

It was maybe an hour or two later before he himself got out of the trunk for the four-poster bed. By that time though, everyone else was already asleep, and the room was filled with sounds of snoring and the occasional shift in covers.

* * *

 _Chapter 7, 'Disco Dancin' Astronomy'_

 _'-The new astronomy professor's... weird, to say the least. Anyway, he's asked us to keep him secret until you have him on what, Wednesday?"  
_

 _"-Oh, please, it's just looking at stars. You know who looks at stars professionally? I do, we do! And we don't even get paid for it!"_

 _"-He has these crazy things, oh whatever. You'll just see when you get there."_

 _"-My job is to teach you the names of these balls of gas burning thousands of light years away from you and where they are, not officiating your wedding vows. If you want to go kiss or whatever it is that you humans do, go do it somewhere else where we don't have to see it."_

 _"-My father will hear about this!"_

 _"-Oh shut yer yap. The only thing he'll be hearing about is a fail, because you can't just go and look at pretty little lights in the sky. What is it then? Do you have other pretty things to look there?"_


End file.
